Untitled
by Answers
Summary: POST OotP. Draco runs away from his father and the impending initiation into the ranks of the death eaters. He doesn't know that he is the missing key the light side needs to win, and the key to Harry's Heart. HPDM
1. Chapter 1

Draco flew. His feet barley touched the ground before they were in the air again. His chest burned and every breath seared his throat and stabbed his lungs. He could barley feel the pain in his side, and didn't even filch as the wound tore at his unrelenting pace. His body was determined and the only thing going through his mind was _Do. Not Stop._

He distantly noticed curses flying past his head, singing the ground he ran on, missing him by a wisp of a hair. But it was if it wasn't him running, his mind couldn't fully register it. The impending danger he was in didn't scare him. He guessed it was because he couldn't feel it._ Must be the shock from blood loss_ he though distantly.

Although he was not thinking consciously his feet kept running and he was very aware of his surroundings. He had escaped to the forest, a relief after the 500 hundred meter stretch run from the manor with no coverage, but it hadn't been easy as the wound in his side bared proof to. He was now using the trees as a shield, and tried to lose himself in the twisting patterns, hoping to throw his pursuers of his track. It seemed to e working as the numbers of curses being fired at him were becoming fewer and longer apart.

Stray branches reached for him ripping at his clothing, slowing him down. The trees seemed to loom above him, blocking out the rising sun and casting eerie shadows everywhere he went. The foliage crunched under his boots, the only indication his attackers had of where he was, besides the occasional glint of white reflected of his hair.

To them he was like a wild spirit moving so fast that their eyes couldn't follow him. They knew how important the Malfoy brat was, but they had been chasing him all night and he had not shown any sign of slowing down any time soon. One by one they stopped, bending over and resting their hands on their knees panting like dogs. Only one kept running, hot on his heels. He knew the boy was injured, even though he showed no sign of it. _No one could have dodged 20 curses at once while running through a pitch black forest_ he though.

He raised his wand in front oh him and aimed while he continued running, trying to get a good angle. _I can't get a lock on him, he's too fast…Inhumanly fast. _His feet slowed as it dawned on him, the reason why they hadn't been able to catch him and why their Master had wanted him so bad.

"He is the one."

Beep beep beep beep beep beep.

The insistent ringing of the alarm clock brought Harry from his peaceful slumber. He groggily sat up and reached blindly for where the sound was coming from. His hand found the alarm clock and he felt around the top until he found the big button and pressed. He sighed as the annoying sound immediately disappeared.

If he were at the Dursleys he could've ignored it, but here the alarm clock would get tired of beeping and instead start yelling insults at him, not a very pleasant thing to wake up to.

He smiled as he remembered where he was_. I'm at the Weaslys for the summer. And I don't have to go back there for another year! _He rolled over and sunk into the pillows his eyes closing in contentment as the sounds of the household waking up drifted though the door. _That's not the only thing_ Harry though as the smell of fresh bacon and eggs assaulted his senses.

His stomach grumbled and Harry sighed, opening his eyes and accepting the fact that he would have to get up and face another busy day. He loved the Weaslys, but he found that when they were all here he never really got a chance to step back and just **be**. They were always doing something and trying to involve him, to take him away from his thoughts.

They didn't want him dwelling on Sirius death and as they assumed blaming himself, so they tried to keep him as busy as possible. He knew what they were doing and he appreciated the thought, but he found that with the constant interruptions to his thoughts, he never got to fully sort out the events of last year and how he felt about them. So instead of figuring out how he felt, then filing the event away he was constantly thinking about it, reliving it and as a result he wasn't able to put it behind him.

Harry chuckled as Ron rolled over off the bed and hit the floor with a loud thump and let out a muffled moan. It was the same every morning, but it never failed to make him laugh.

"S'not funny Harry" Ron groaned in response to Harry's laughter.

"Yes it is. If it was me you'd be laughing your arse of right now." Harry replied still chuckling.

"Yeah I would, but it's not me so I'm still going to tell you to stop." Ron grumbled getting up and rubbing his neck.

"Whatever, I'm having a shower and make sure you don't eat my breakfast" Harry said as he got up, smiling at Ron's response of 'if your not there to defend it it's free game'.

He walked to the bathroom that was empty, a rare occurrence in the crowded Weasly household and closed the door. He undressed and turned on the shower, fiddling with the nobs until he got the right temperature. He sighed as the hot water hit his back, and tilted his head up closing his eyes against the streams of water. The sound washed over him (no pun intended) blocking out everything.

His mind was quiet but he knew it couldn't last. Sure enough a picture of Sirius drifted into his mind and the tyrant of emotions that came with it assaulted his heart. He had only known him for a few short years, but he was the only father figure he had had. Someone who he could talk to about little things, like what robes to wear and how to ask a girl out, as well as the expectation of him defeating Voldemort. And he was Harry's only connection to his parents. Remus was nice, but they were never close and Harry didn't feel like he could really talk with him. If only he hadn't gone to the Ministry that night – no he shouldn't be thinking like that, wishing wasn't going to help, not now.

"Harry are you done yet? Breakfast is nearly over and I need to wash my hair." Ginny's voice interrupted his thoughts and cut his shower short. He guessed he should be thankful for the time he got in there anyway, with her and Hermione, not to mention al the other Weaslys, he was lucky to even have enough time to got to the toilet.

"Yeah I'll be right out."

He turned of the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around his waist as he gather up his sleeping clothes. He opened the door, and Ginny's mouthed dropped in astonishment.

Harry's black bangs hung sexily in front of his face, reaching his nose and shielding his eyes. They were dripping wet and Ginny's eyes followed as a drop of water fell from the end of his hair onto his chest, rolling down until it met the edge of his towel. His chest was well defined, not bulky like some boys became, but not quite lean either. His broad shoulders tapered off to a taunt stomach, golden skin from hours outside made him seem like a Greek God.

"Dam Harry if I didn't know you were gay I would be all over you right now!" Harry's lips twitched slightly at the compliment.

"Well then thank God you do, I don't think I could've lived though that one."

Ginny smacked him at the mild insult, and pushed past him into the bathroom.

"Maybe if you didn't take so long in the shower I wouldn't have to stare at your sexy body every morning and we wouldn't have this problem." Ginny sniffed, turning her nose up playfully.

"Well sorry if I value my hygiene Miss Weasly, something you obviously do not." Harry ducked her punch and ran into the room he was sharing with Ron. He loved their morning banters; it was something he would sorely miss when he got back to Hogwarts.

He quickly got changed and ran the stairs, the enticing smell of Mrs Weaslys breakfast causing him to jump the last three in an effort to get there quicker.

The dinner table was one of Harry's favourite things about the Weaslys house. It was made of oak and was nearly three meters long so it could fit everyone in at the same table. It had nothing to do with the old oak table itself, but what it represented. The family that sat around it was like Harry's family, every child like a brother or sister. It was where he had what felt like his first family dinner, where everyone laughed and talked about their day. It carried a history of good memories for Harry and he cherished every good memory he had.

Right now Ron was sitting at that table, eating what looked like his 3rd serving while reading the prophet. Across from him Hermione, who had arrived a few days earlier, was reading a thick tomb about magical crystals and their properties and of course they were arguing at the same time.

"I just don't see why you want to read about rocks." Ron said around a mouthful of food.

"Their not _rocks_, their magical crystals! There is a difference you know."

"What is one prettier?" He asked sarcastically.

"Of course not! Some can do amazing things, like the azameth stone can heal nearly any wound; the drisov can temporarily stop time, the fre-"

"Okay okay I get it. Their special." Ron stressed the word. Harry laughed as he walked into the room.

"Ron leave Hermione alone, you know she's right." He grabbed a plate and started to stack on his breakfast.

"But Harry, she always get to be right. Why can't I every be right?" Harry rolled his eyes at the whining tone."

"Because it would mess with the cosmos of course." He replied flippantly. He sat down next to Hermione and started to eat his breakfast.

"Stupid cosmos." Ron grumbled going back to his abandoned newspaper.

"Morning Harry." Hermione greeted him, giving him a smile of thanks before also going back to her book. Harry attempted a response around his toast that came out like a grunt. A peaceful silence settled around the table, the only sounds were Harry's constant munching and the turning of pages, until Ron suddenly chocked on his breakfast going into a coughing fit.

"You all right mate?" Harry asked half rising out of his seat. Ron waved a hand dismissively before sliding the newspaper across. He pointed at the headline.

**MALFOY HEIR DEAD.**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry too chocked on his breakfast, the surprise of the headline causing him to gasp while he still had food in his mouth. It made for an amusing sight for Ginny when she walked in.

"Imitating a fish now are we Harry?" She questioned as she poured herself a cup of tea from the re-heating kettle. Harry motioned for her to sit down as he got his coughing under control. Clearing his throat he began to read the headline, hand held up to stem any interruptions.

MALFOY HEIR PRESUMED DEAD 

_Draco Andrew Lucius Malfoy mysteriously disappeared from his family Manor a few weeks after he got home on summer brake from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

_He was last sighted publicly on the third of July last week on an outing to Diagon ally with his Mother, Nacrissia Malfoy. Both her and her husband, the illustrious Lucius Malfoy are extremely worried for his safety._

"_There was always a risk of him being kidnapped due to our fortune, but so far we have received no ransom note, and nobody has been in contact with me about him. Draco is very loyal to his family, so it is highly doubtful that he ran away, plus everything he owned was still in his room and his account hasn't been touched. We don't know where he is but we want him back!"_

_Mr. Malfoy has posted an award of 1 million gallons to the person/party who finds him, alive, a fair some that should hopefully spur a nation search party._

_Lucius Malfoy is know throughout London for his-_

"- It just goes on about him and his accomplishments from there." Harry finished. He tossed the paper down and pushed his breakfast, suddenly not hungry.

"Well just because he's missing doesn't mean that he's dead, right? I mean he could be anywhere." Hermione stated.

"Maybe he doesn't want to be found." Ginny added in.

"But why would Malfoy suddenly of AWOL? He loves his family, or at least their title, right? He's always sprouting shit about his father and bloodlines and stuff. So why would he just leave?" Harry questioned.

"Well –" Ginny started, but Harry interrupted her.

"Why are we even discussing this, it's Malfoy isn't it? Why should we care?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We care _Ronald_, because one of our fellow class mates has disappeared and is presumed dead! No matter how horrible he is or on which side of a battlefield he stands, he's only 16! And a life is a life no matter the personality." Hermione answered, abruptly rising and placing her dish in the sink. She grabbed her book and with a graceful flick of her hair, ascended the stairs.

"Is she mad at me now?" He asked Harry.

"Yeah I think so mate." Harry nodded to emphasize his point and winced when he heard he slam the door upstairs.

"Bloody Malfoy, manages to ruin my life even when he's not hear."

"What-" gasp "can I-"gasp "say Weasel", gasp "It's a God given talent." The drawl was unmistakable although it was punctured every few seconds with ragged breath. He erupted into a coughing fill his whole body shacking weakly, jerking with each cough.

"Oh My God Malfoy, what happened to you?" Harry asked, his eyes travelling down the battered body of the boy in front of him. His clothes were ripped everywhere, showing glimpses of his pale skin that was covered in blood. He was leaning awkwardly on the door clutching his arm to his chest in an effort to stabilise it. It was red an swollen and Harry winced at how painful it looked. His hair was windswept and mattered to his forehead and his face was caked with blood and dirt?

"Are you gonna stare-" gasp "at me all day-" gasp "or let me in?" He asked, and Harry rushed forward. As soon as he opened the door, Malfoy staggered in, nearly falling over but catching himself in time.

"Ron go fire call Professor Dumbledore or Grimuald place! Quick!" Harry yelled as Ron sat there for a second, staring at Malfoy as if he couldn't believe he was really in his house, before rushing off to do as Harry asked.

"Ginny go get you mum."

"But she's out, Order business." She replied, sounding distressed at not being able to help.

"Ummm, go get Hermione! She'll know what to do." Ginny sprinted up the stairs and Harry could hear her thumping around calling Hermione's name. Harry went to put his arms around Malfoy to stop him swaying, but as he placed his hand on his side he hear him his sharply. Harry pulled his hand away to find it covered in deep red blood.

"Jesus Malfoy what **did** happen to you?" He didn't get a chance to answer as Hermione came running down the stairs behind Ginny.

"Harry what's going on? I couldn't understand Ginny – Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked in a rush staring at Malfoys weak form.

"We don't have time Hermione, he's injured pretty badly and he's losing blood and I don't know what to do to stop it!" Harry yelled, motioning for her to come over. She did and slowly peeled back his shirt where the blood had soaked. A gash about five cm deep gazed his side and was welling with deep burgundy blood. Harry winced just seeing.

"Harry get me some water and some fresh towels, and some bandages or sheets. Ginny, does your mum have any healing or pain potions around the house?" Hermione asked, moving Malfoy to sit down on the table and peeling off his shirt.

"Yeah I think so, but none strong enough to heal that!"

"Go get them for me."

"But-"

"Now Ginny" Hermione interrupted firmly. She heard Ginny dash off, and concentrated more on her task. As soon as she had pulled the shirt from the wound, it had started to ooze blood at an alarming rate. She held his torn shirt to it, hoping to slow the flow but it only stoped it for a moment before the shirt soaked thorough and blood started to drip down over her fingers.

That's when Harry ran in, with the items she had asked for in hand. The water sloshed from side to side from his running, but it was still half full. He had a few hand towels and a long checked sheet trailing behind him

"Okay Harry put that water next to him, there, and same with the clothes. Right now I need you to start ripping those sheet okay? Long strips, yep just like that."

She turned back to Malfoy , who had a grimace on his face. _He's doin amazingly well with the pain_, she thought. Amazing that he isn't crying, screaming or passed out. She pulled the cloth away and grabbed a clean damp one, wiping around his wound before holding it to it. _Pressure to the wound, slows the blood flow and allows clots to form. It can buy a patient up to half and hour more time. _She thought quickly, thanking God that she had decided to read some muggle human biology text books.

Ginny ran into the room carrying an armful of potion.

"I have ah, a blood replenishing potion and a mild sedative potion, all the others were to weak." She stated running over to Hermione.

"Not that's' good Ginny, give him the replenishing first and then the sedative. Where the hell is Ron! **RON!**" She yelled, and seconds later he skidded into the room.

" Remus and tonks will be here in 5 minutes, they just had to alert the others where they were and open the wards for Malfoy." He stated quickly turning place at the sight of the blood that coated Hermione's hands.

Ginny stepped back having given Malfoy the potions (he practically inhaled the sedative) and collected all the shreds of sheet Harry had ripped. She brought them over to Malfoy, and her and Hermione quickly worked on wrapping them tightly around his middle. He swayed dangerously as the sedative took affect and Harry grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

Hermione left Ginny holding another towel over his side, to add more pressure and set to work making a sling for his broken arm, he whimpered when she touched it but other then that remained quiet. They stopped having nothing to do now but wait.

Harry picked a washcloth and cleaned Malfoys face of the grime. He hated being useless and had to keep himself busy. He started to talk to him and make soothing sounds, reassurances that you would give a sick child.

His head flopped to the side and he stared up at Harry unblinkingly, eyes glassy with pain.

A bang alerted the arrival of the order and Hermione yelled that they were in the kitchen. Seconds later Remus and Tonks rushed in and ran straight for Malfoy.

"He's got a very deep wound in his side professor, I think it may have grazed a kidney due to the darkness of the blood. His arm is broken and he's exhausted. We gave him a blood replenishing potion and a mild sedative to numb the pain." Hermione rattled off his different injuries quickly, shacking from adrenaline.

Remus didn't reply he cast a quick stabilising charm on him, so that his condition wouldn't get any worse when they moved him and levitated him our of Harry's arms.

He made his way back to the fire place and Harry distantly heard him say Hogwarts Infirmary before he whooshed away.

"None of you are hurt?" Tonks asked as she checked over the tree with her eyes.

"No were fine." Harry replied

"What happened?" She asked glancing at them again. Harry cleared his throat, but his voice still came out raspy and weak.

"Well we were eating breakfast and read the article about Malfoy – junior that is- going missing. And then we looked up and he was there in the doorway. He asked if he could come in and then nearly fainted. Then we called you while Hermione tried to stop the bleeding." Nodding at his recount, Tonks asked them if they would be aright here until Molly got home. They nodded and she turned to leave, but Harry's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Is he going to be alright?" He asked, not looking at her.

"I don't know Harry, but Malfoys are stubborn. He wont give up without a fight." She replied. She flicked her wand towards the bloodied table, cleaning it of the blood and banishing the times to the laundry.

"If you all have a shower and change, you can come to Grimuald place in an hour. Just make sure you leave a note for your mother, Ron. And don't worry kids, you did good." With that she left, leaving in a whirl of green smoke.

They sat there in complete silence, the situation just now sinking in. Malfoy was in bad shape; he could very easily die in the next 24 ours.

"Does this mean we'll get that reward?" Ron asked tentatively

A/N: Thank you to my one reviewer mick the irish pirate, you're the reason I got this chapter out this mourning. You'll find out what happened to Draco sometime in the next few chapters. I hope you like it so far, comments and criticism appreciated, and insults ignored.


	3. Chapter 3

His eyelids were heavy, like a weight had been attached to the ends of each one to stop them from opening. It was dark behind his lids, and he had been in the dark for so long and all he wanted was light…

He forced them open and then slammed them shut again. He wanted light but not **that** much! Who would put a light directly above a bed? You'd have to be one hell of a mourning person to endure that every day and still be happy. He tentatively opened them again, slowly this time so that they could adjust.

The room swam in front of him, shapes blurring together and distorting, as if he were looking at it though the end of a glass. His first impression was… white. A hospital then, or at least the infirmary. Unless he was in heaven, which he highly doubted due to the numerous aches across his body. _Can you feel pain in heaven? _

Why was he at a – oh right. Everything from the last few days came rushing back to him. Was it days? How long had he been asleep? He remembered the death eaters, the dungeon, the endless running and his feet pounding on the ground like war drums in his ears. Then he remembered seeing a house, reaching towards the sky yet slanting towards the ground, like a cake with no shape**. (A/N Anyone seen sleeping beauty? That's where the reference is from) **

He didn't care that it looked slightly dirty and cluttered or that it's garden was unkept, it was the first sign of civilisation he had seen for miles and he knew he couldn't run any longer. He just hoped they were friendly. And when he had gone to the door whom should he see but Potter and his sidekick, Weasly_. Oh the irony of having to ask them for help,_ he thought bitterly. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

Clicking drew Draco out of his thoughts, the sound of high shoes on tiles if he was correct. It grew louder until it stopped right next to his bed. He tried to move his head to the right to see who it was, but his muscles wouldn't cooperate._ Why am I so weak? I don't remember feeling this bad before._

"Don't try to move Mr Malfoy, your body is still healing. You're going to be very weak for a while" Madame Pomfrey said. She had obviously seen his pitiful attempt to move. He couldn't imagine having to stay this weak for much longer, it would mean he would need help with nearly everything.

"I'm going to give you a potion now, it will help strengthen you muscles and loosen them up. You've been fighting a fever for the last few days and a staff infection, but you healed amazingly quickly…"

She kept talking but he tuned out, he probably wasn't going to remember any of this when he woke up next anyway. He was so tired that he barley managed to swallow the thick potion held to his lips before sleep clouded his mind again.

HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP

The next time awoke he wasn't as tired, or as sore, but he could hardly remember what the nurse had been talking about_. Something to do with my injuries_, he thought vaguely.

He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but as he did a stabbing pain shot up his side and raced a long his spine. His arms struggled with his wait and collapsed under him. the pain in his side forced any other attempts to move out of his mind_. I guess this is what she meant by needing help with all the little things._ He cursed his body for being weak and had to content himself with staring at the ceiling. _You think they could've come up with a more interesting colour then white. It's so boring._

He was becoming increasingly bored and after ten minutes of constant staring he began to get irritated. Isn't this an infirmary? There should at least be some supervision in case someone needs help. With nothing to do he started to think about what he should tell the headmaster. _No doubt he'll want to talk to me._

Would he be able to get away with saying that he was just randomly attacked? No Dumbledore was to smart for that, he would see through it in a second. How would he explain turning up wounded, cursed and exhausted on the Weaslys back door step? He could lie saying that he was going for a walk around the grounds of his manor, and someone mistook him for an intruder and started cursing him. That would explain why he had run in the opposite direction of home.

Although it was never really home to me… 

His musings were cut short by the arrival of the headmaster himself, who had managed to appear out of thin air next to his bed Draco hoped that it wasn't obvious that he had been inventing excuses. He didn't think it was, but with the headmaster you never knew.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy I am so glad to see you awake. You had us all quite worried for a while, Mr Potter especially." Draco didn't comment on how weird that sentence sounded. Potter, worried about me? He mentally snorted.

"Lucky Ms Granger was there or you might not be here." He paused as if waiting for Draco to comment on that statement. _Probably wants me to write a song about how much I love her now_, he thought amused at how naïve the man could seem. He was grateful but they never needed to know that. At receiving no response he continued.

"So how are you feeling my boy? You were half dead when you arrived."

"I'm fine, headmaster. Just a little _tired_." Draco hinted, wanting to end the conversation before he started to ask any questions about why he had been half dead. He hadn't fully thought out a plan of action yet.

"Of course my boy sorry for keeping you up." He made a motion as if to leave before turning around and facing him again. Draco held his breath.

"You will of course come by my office as soon as Poppy lets you out, yes?" He raised an eyebrow in question. He knew that he really had no say in the matter, but he pretended to think it over before he agreed.

"Of course sir. When I'm allowed to leave."

"Excellent. I'll call Poppy to check up on you before you go back to sleep."

"Thank you sir" Hopefully she could give him something for the aches and make him go to sleep quicker. A dreamless sleep potion would be nice. It was hard enough dealing with his thoughts on the event, he didn't want to imagine what his subconscious could come up with.

The headmaster left swiftly, only stopping at the matron's office briefly before making his way out of the infirmary. A few seconds later, the door to the office opened and Madame Pomfrey came out. She walked briskly to a cabinet on the far side of the room, gathering up a tray that contained a few medical supplies, including a needle and thread (Draco shuddered mentally what that could mean) and a deep blue potion. Draco immediately recognised it as a sleeping draught, but he couldn't remember what kind.

"How are you feeling today Mr Malfoy?" She asked cast a charm to keep the medical tray hovering beside her at waist height so that she could easily reach all o the tools on it.

"Fine mam. A bit sore, and I can hardly move, but no mind numbing ailments to speak of." He responded lightly. It wasn't the whole truth; he was more then a bit sore he just knew how to block it out. Not to mention the horrible pain in his side whenever he moved. She gave him a knowing look that told him she knew he was lying; yet he stared at her stubbornly.

"I'm going to remove you shirt Mr Malfoy, you received a very serious wound to liver and you bleed out quite servery. As many of the chemical substances required for normal blood clotting are produced in the liver, your body managed to slow the blood flow down for a short while, giving you enough time to make it hear to be healed. The effort Ms Granger put in you helped slow it down as well. We managed to heal the wound, repairing the damage to your liver and the tissue around it. You required 23 stitches and you still have some internal bruising that could not be healed without further risk to you liver."

Draco's head buzzed with the overload of information, barley keeping up with what she was saying. He must have been hit with a slashing curse or something similar. If he thought back he could remember a burning pain in his side, but he had blocked it out intent on escaping. He felt cold hands on his stomach and looked up to find that Madame Pomfrey had gotten tired with waiting for response and had lifted his shirt up and inspecting the wounds.

Her hands felt around a large gash on hi side, causing spikes of pain whenever she prodded to hard. He looked down, and was surprised to see a large gash about ten centimetres long, looking purple and swollen. Small black stiches held the torn flesh neatly together.

"It's colouring is due to the internal bruising mostly, and a bit of bleeding is the reason it is swollen." She kept checking for a few minutes longer, making sure there were no signs of infecting and that everything was all right with the stitches.

"It's seems to be healing nicely. It will hurt for a week or two, and I suggest you try to move as little as possible for the next few days."

"How long will I be staying here Madame? In the infirmary that is. And how long have I been asleep for?" Draco asked curious. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, he hated sitting around doing nothing all day, yet he didn't want to rush his meeting with the headmaster.

"A few more days, perhaps three if you continue healing this well. And you have been unconscious for four days." She answered straightening up and pulling his shirt back down. After picking up the sleeping potion she banished the tray, and Draco was happy to see it go glad that he wasn't awake when she had stitched him up.

"This is a sleeping draught, one sip will put you asleep for 12 hours straight, so make sure you don't guzzle it down. I'll bring you a light snack; some fruit and toast perhaps as I'm sure your stomach couldn't handle anything richer after the number of potions you have consumed in the last week. You may take your sip after you eat."

She walked away to summon a house elf, and while she was gone Draco made another attempt to sit up. It worked a little better this time, as he used power from his opposite side to the wound as to avoid any more pain, and managed to have himself resting comfortably on the pillows by the time she returned with a small plate of fruit and a slice of dry toast.

He hadn't realised how hungry he was until the food was presented to him. It wasn't a five star meal, but that was okay, he didn't feel that he could eat one anyway. He quickly ate a peach, enjoying the smooth skin and sweet juices on his tongue, and nibbled on the piece of toast until he was full. Carefully leaning over he placed the plate on the bedside table and grabbed the sleeping draught.

His mind was spinning over everything that had happened in the last few days. It began to pound as he again began to deliberate over what to tell the headmaster. He finally decided that he would figure it out tomorrow, and the sleeping potion looked to good to resist. He gazed into the swirling blue depths; entranced by the pretty colours it turned when held up to the light.

With a deep breath he tilted his head back and swallowed a large sip, resiting the urge to drink the whole vile and never wake up. That was a coward's thing to do. As his eyes drifted shut he wondered when he had started acting like a Griffindor…

A/N Hello! I know I said that I would update yesterday, but my sister needed me to go shopping with her and then I had to go to a family 'Carols by Candlelight' thingy. And last night I had this huge drama with a red back spider the size of a lid of coke. Found it hovering over me in the middle of the night, scared the shit out of me. Then I was to paranoid to go in my room for like 8 hours. I know excuses excuses. The only reason I did get over my fear and come back in here is due to your wonderful reviews! They inspire me to keep writing, I'm normally very bad when it comes to updating and never write new chapters and eventually end up deleting the whole story. That wont happen if you keep reading & reviewing though!


	4. Chapter 4

The next time Draco awoke it was night time- no not true. It was the time between the end of a day and the start of a new one, the few spare hours when neither light nor dark dominated, and not even the wind dared to disrupt the rare peace. This was Draco's time. He rather likened himself to this space of nothingness that existed like a rip in time. It was like everyone else in the world was asleep but him, and he could truly enjoy the beauty of solidarity with nothing but the cold wind pressing icy fingers to his cheeks. His eyelids fluttered, and he imagined that the quiet of the world was reaching through them into his soul, spreading to every inch of him. His very essence changed and he was no longer Draco Malfoy, rather the spirit of the wind dwelling inside the body of a boy.

Releasing his breath was like releasing this spirit, and Draco felt the precious few moments of peace he had captured flutter away. He didn't have time for peace, not when there was a rabid band of death eaters on his heels and a meddlesome do-gooder headmaster to fool. He wasn't worried, not about Dumbledore at least. He was a slytherin, a no matter how much everyone else slandered this title, it still held merit. To be a slytherin you had to be cunning, intelligent and willing to go that little extra more, the inch below the belt to ensure your survival. Draco imagined himself a snake, he was good at hiding, and when that failed- fleeing, hard to catch and harder to hold on to and incredibly dangerous. Most people didn't think of 16 year olds in that way, and he was relying on that assumption to let him walk out of here without debate.

Looking over the grounds he felt a twinge of sadness in his gut. The long grass swayed in the breeze, shining silver from the luminescent glow radiating from the moon. He could visualise himself laying in it just as he had a few months ago, could feel that coolness embrace him. Pansy would be reading the latest chapter of the book Blaise was writing, and occasionally Draco would toss in a smart ass comment, resulting in either Blaise hitting him or everyone laughing. As much as he hated cultured gardens, he would miss Hogwarts…

Again he breathed in deep, this time filling his chest with determination as well as air. He was no use to anyone as he was now. He needed training and knowledge, but most of all answers. Nothing in his life right now was under his control, nothing made sense, but he would change that. He would use this borrowed time to plan so that he could learn everything he needed to know. So that he could understand what he had overhead just a few nights ago, to know what he was needed for and why they had hunted him so hard.

_He had been told to wait in the next room until he was called. The robed figures had filed past him, their grotesque masks leering at him. His heart speed up, pumping adrenaline though his system and waking every nerve in his body. He wasn't frightened of them, he knew that being who he was he was awarded a certain degree of protection. No, he was more concerned about why he had been invited down to the dungeons tonight. _

_His father had woken him up, waited for him to dress and escorted him down here without explaining anything. He seemed excited, and shocked Draco by affectionally clapping him on the back before falling in line with the rest of his comrades._

_This is what tipped him off. His father never touched him. He didn't touch anyone. Lucious Malfoy would rather burn all the sin off his hands using sulphuric acid then connect physically with another human being. Draco had never even witnessed him take his gloves off, not even during dinner. _

_He only briefly toyed with the idea that it was initiation time. Voldemort didn't accept anyone 17, despite the rumours. He only took the best, the highest the purest and the smartest. Others were unworthy to serve of him. Plus initiation wasn't just one event, and it was considered a thing of pride to be completed in the light of day, not the dead of night._

_Draco cautiously approached the door, and ever so slowly lowered his ear to rest alongside the keyhole. The voices were muffled but understandable._

'_-oy outside. Ironic isn't it that the little key has been sitting mere rooms away from me? Almost too painful to think about.'_

'_But we did figure it out master, before the Order. Even he has no idea of the role he will play in the war. Even the Orikiis didn't know it was him' one of the robed figures spoke._

'_The boy can be used as a weapon master. Perhaps since we got to him first we can change his fate, use him to our advantage. Sweet justice that half of the soul of The One would be working to kill him, don't you think?' Another voice piped._

'_Perhaps, but I am not willing to chance defection. If he is who the prophecy of Hiktori say's he is, then even we will not be able to sway his heart. I have made some avoidable mistakes in the past with the Potter boy, I will not play the fool with the Malfoy child!'_

_The realisation that they were talking about him slapped Draco in the face like the killing curse. He started to hyperventilate, his mind denying it to be true. He was from an important family; he was going to work for Voldemort's revolution. He didn't want to fight them, or…_

_He scowled at himself. He was over reacting, probably misinterpreting the situation. His father would defend him and explain everything, and then it would all make sense_

'_What do you think Malfoy?' Voldemort hissed, turing to one of the numerous death eaters gathered there._

'_I agree Master. The boy is a liability while alive, it may be wiser to take him out while he is unaware of the power he poses. I am capable of producing another heir, its not like his irreplaceable..'_

_Draco lost track of the conversation after that. He was going to be killed. His father said it was okay. Tears stung his eyes, his mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and his head buzzed. He was an expendable hump of flesh and blood to the one person who was meant to love him most._

_It was like watching a TV show and laughing, only to realise he was the main character. It was him they were talking about,-_

_It suddenly occurred to him that he was only meters away from his future killers why were leisurely deciding how to do the job, secure in the knowledge that he was biding his time like a good little boy. If he didn't act now his body would be floating at the bottom of some remote lake for all eternity. Food for the fishes._

_Making his decision in an instant, Draco began to creep away from the door. He only had minutes until someone remembered they hadn't put up the silencing wards, or thought to check on him. No time to grab anything from his room, just enough time to make it to the gates. Turing around Draco decided to run, choosing life over a lifetime of beliefs. _

_Little did he know that he had just begun down the road to fulfilling the very prophecy that had signed his death warrant…_

Draco snapped back to reality. He felt like he had aged so much since that night, and it was barely 5 days ago. He hated how unprepared he was, and never wanted to be caught in a similar situation again. No better time then the present seemed like an appropriate phrase. Draco was too restless to sit by idly and waste time. His roommates had claimed him as an insomniac because he hardly slept more then 5 hours a night. He hated sleeping when time could be used so much more productively, he'd sleep when he was dead. Plus his body was never relaxed enough to enter REM sleep. Who could shut down their mind when they lived in a house of Death Eaters?

Draco moved away from the open window towards his hospital bed, slowly changing into jeans and a t-shirt that had been provided for when he was to see the later that day. He moved carefully because of the still tender stiches, magic aside sometimes the best way for the body to heal was naturally. Slipping his wand into the waste of his pants, he began to slow trek to the library.

The best thing about Hogwarts during the holidays was the lack of bodies filling the hallways. Normally he would have to weave a path through the crammed corridor, dodging mudbloods and 1st years that had no decency to move aside. As it was now, even at his snail pace he made it quicker then he would have 2nd period Monday morning.

The Library was deserted, more so then usual. The musty scent of age old books and worn leather bindings wafted into his nose, and the only light came from the sparsely lit candles. Most unsupervised students would instantly decide to go to the restricted section, hoping to learn something cool to show off to their friends. Draco however knew the advantage of knowing your basics, of familiarising yourself with the elemental aspects of magic long neglected in the Hogwarts curriculum. Plus he knew all the curses in the dark books already. One of the few perks of being a Malfoy was the wealth of knowledge on anything considered unnecessary for children to learn. That and the actual wealth itself wasn't bad either…

Draco spent the next few hours researching elemental curses and medi-magi having learnt all to well the value of knowing how to heal ones self. He recognised his ignorance as a weakness and decided it was and unacceptable failure on his part. Getting up to retrieve another book on the subject, he paused when he walked past an isle that seemed darker then the rest. It seemed like all the light in the room was being bent towards this spot, like the walls themselves were being pulled towards it.

He figured he should just grab his book and go, but something told him a piece of the puzzle was there. Something that would help him understand that night.

He walked into the heart of the darkness, his breath shuttering at the in fathomable black that surrounded him. It suffocated his senses and for a moment he was completely helpless. Then just as it had appeared, the cloud was gone. In its place lay a book. It was just smaller then A4, its cover was a delicately carved binding of gold, dulled with age but striking In its beauty. Its elaborate swirls and delicate designs gave Draco the impression that it was a book made for royalty; he doubted anyone else could afford it. Which posed the question, what was it doing in the school library?

Carefully he picked it up and traced his fingers of the indented words scrawled in calligraphy across the front.

_**A Tale of Two Houses**_

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**Authors Note:** Yeah, wasn't really planning on updating this story. I'm more of a reader then a writer. But a reviewer asked me to, and I have been in the position numerous times when I want the author to update and they never do. So this is for all those that reviewed. If its crap, tell me and we can decide if its salvageable, if its passable then I hope it wasn't too much of an effort to read.

No updates without requests.


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